Second Hand Dream
by MrSkeeter
Summary: For twelve years Sirius Black has endured the soul draining conditions of Azkaban Prison. One day a chance discovery gives him the inspiration needed to plot his escape. A short canon based one shot.  I do not own Harry Potter, yada yada.


_A/N: I am not J. K. Rowling, nor Gordon Lightfoot. I have merely used her wonderful characters to create a brief story inspired by his fantastic lyrics._

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**Second Hand Dream**

Sirius Black could hear the unmistakable sound of the patrolling Dementor making its rounds of Azkaban Prison. Crawling to the corner of his cell farthest from the door he cowered against the cold, damp, lifeless, stone wall and summoned all his strength in an attempt to turn himself in the great shaggy dog known as Padfoot. The task was becoming increasingly difficult, the almost twelve years he had endured on the God forsaken rock in the middle of the North Sea had slowly robbed him of his will, his life, and yes even the very core of his being. Still somewhere deep in the dark of his worn out soul shined the spark of what had been reduced to nothing more than a second hand dream. A dream of escaping and somehow redeeming what he considered to be the weakness that had led to death of two of his closest friends, James and Lilly Potter. The constant depression caused by the presence of the Dementors had robbed him of everything else, but this thought wasn't a happy thought and they didn't have the power to rip it from him.

As was always the case the guard peered into the cell and was satisfied that it was occupied, not concerned that the occupant was a scruffy canine instead of the shattered body of a man. With the Dementors passing Sirius resumed his human form and lay spent and shaking on the cold concrete floor until sleep forced itself upon him. Waking, he forced his mind to consider his options for what seemed the millionth time. He didn't know why, but his animagus form offered some protection when the Dementors were close, however it was becoming increasingly difficult for him to make the transformation. Shivering in the darkness he fought to remain on task as his options drifted in fit and starts through his conscious mind. His Godson, James' and Lilly's son Harry must surely be old enough to attend Hogwarts by now. If he was or not Sirius didn't know and it ate at his heart, was Harry even aware what had happened to his parent's, was he even alive? Pulling himself into a tight ball, Sirius did the one thing that every prisoner in Azkaban did, he cried. Was it for minutes, hours, days? There was no way for him to know, the rise and fall of the sun was something he hadn't witnessed in his windowless hell for the whole of the time he'd been incarcerated.

Finally the tears stopped and Sirius pulled himself into a sitting position. The all encompassing feeling of dread seemed to have lessened. The reason for this soon became apparent as the Minister for Magic, Cornelius Fudge, walked past his cell door accompanied by several body guards. The normal Dementor security force had been withdrawn from this sector to accommodate the Minister's inspection. Noticing a folded newspaper in the Minister's cloak pocket, Sirius could just make out the picture on the exposed page and recognized his old friends Arthur and Molly Weasley. Chancing a closer look he slide forward and froze with anger. One of the Weasley children was holding a common house rat that Sirius immediately recognized as the animagus form of the traitorous Peter Pettigrew. Pointy a shaking finger at the Minister he croaked, "P, P, Pe, Pe."

Fudge stopped and peered into the dark cell. "What, what was that?" He followed the point of Sirius' finger and glanced down at the paper projecting from his pocket. "Are you pointing at this? Want to pass some time doing the puzzles eh? I don't see why not." The Minister removed the paper from his pocket and tossed it into the cell before walking off.

Sirius glared at the picture of and made his decision on the spot; he would do the impossible and escape. First to locate Harry and tell him the truth, then to hunt down the rat and do the very thing he'd been sent to this God forsaken rock for. Destroy Peter Pettigrew.

Knowing he had no chance of making it out of the prison, never mind off the island, in his human form, Sirius once again summoned all his strength and transformed into the rough coated dog to await his chance. For days his resolve remained unwavering, as he timed the guard's rounds, observing every action and routine they followed, looking for anything that would give him one chance at freedom. Finally he thought he'd found his way out. When the guard came to feed him it always opened the feeding slot first, then turned its back to collect the food from the trolley. Sirius was certain that in his current emaciated state he would be able to fit through the open slot before the guard would turn around and notice him. For the next day Sirius sat and waited, counting every round by the guard's until finally he heard the unmistakable clatter of the food trolley on the metal catwalk. With agonizing slowness the trolley drew closer until, finally, it was outside his cell. As always the Dementor opened the food slot and turned its back. Sirius sprang into action and forced himself through the opening, clearing it just before the guard turned, slid his daily ration of gruel into the cell and closed the door. Not wanting to give himself away Sirius hugged the shadows along the front of the other cells and crept forward until twenty cells separated him from the Dementor. Bolting into action he charged down the catwalk taking the first stairway down he came to. So it continued for several frantic moments. Sirius would sprint down a catwalk, careen down a stairwell and dash off again, until finally he found himself outside the walls of the prison, standing on the barren rocks of the island, the sunlight, unseen fro so many years glaring in his eyes. Availing himself of the only hiding place available, Sirius squeezed into the crevasse between two boulders and pondered his next move. He was certain that once outside the walls he'd be able to apparate, but transforming back to human form seemed unduly risking. Of course the alternative of staying a dog and trying to swim to Scotland seemed equally hazardous. The one thing he was certain of was that every moment he stayed still increased his chances of being found out. Leaping forward he plunged into the cold water and started paddling.

Sirius dragged himself up the rocky beach and collapsed. He was safely off the island and had managed to survive swimming across the North Sea, but knew he was still far from safe. Calling on what remained of his strength he set off towards the lights of a distant village. Reaching the outskirts of the hamlet he casually made his way among the houses looking for a likely meal. Behind the butchers he sniffed around the bin and before pushing it over and gorging himself on the day's scraps. His hunger sated, Sirius started making his way south, stopping at daybreak to bed down in a thicket of silver birches. For the next several nights Sirius traveled south under the cover of darkness, eating when he could find a convenient meal and taking advantage of what ever shelter he could find to sleep by day, until he reached the village of Hogsmeade. For the first time since his escape Sirius spent the day resting with a roof over his head. That evening he ventured forth from the Shrieking Shack to seek not only food, from the waste bins of the village, but also news. He was spotted behind the Three Broomsticks by the cook who didn't chase him off, but instead fixed him a bowl of table scraps. It was still garbage, but it was warm, fresh and smelled like real food instead of being cold, stale and reeking of refuse. Sirius tucked into it like it was a King's feast and returned the next two nights, not just to enjoy a warm meal, but also to sit under the open window of the inn and listen to the villagers' gossip. It seemed the Ministry must have blocked the news of his escape, as no one seemed to be discussing what surely would be the biggest story of the week had it been made public. The bits and pieces of conversation he overhead didn't give him anymore information than he'd been able to glean from the Daily Prophets retrieved form the trash and Sirius made the decision to continue south.

Accepting a final warm meal from the kitchens of the Three Broomsticks, Sirius ran through his options one last time. The only place he could think of to look, was the last know address of Harry's only living relatives, Vernon and Petunia Dursley. He'd never actually been to the house, but knew from talking with James and Lilly that they lived on Privet Drive in Little Whinging. Hopping to catch a little luck and that the Dursleys hadn't moved in the past twelve years, he set off. On the second night of his journey south he managed to sneak onto the back a southbound lorry as it refueled. His ride lasted as far as Northampton before he was forced to continue on foot. Finally reaching Little Whinging, it took him two nights searching before he could locate Privet Drive and two more nights to find the Dursley's house. This discovery was down to simple happenstance. While snooping around back gardens he'd heard a shrill woman's voice calling out, "Vernon the bins have to go to the curb tonight." This had been followed by a gruff command of, "Boy! The bins, now!" Sirius had watched as the spitting image of his schoolmate James emerged from the house to drag the trash to the curb. Feeling certain that the Aurors must have the home under surveillance he didn't dare transform and settled in to wait his chance to approach Harry. He missed a prime chance on the fourth day of his vigil as Harry left the house and spent the whole day wandering by himself. However that evening an argument erupted in the house and the slamming of the front door announced Harry had left. Sirius immediately took off after him, being careful not to show himself to anyone else who might be watching. When Harry stopped, Sirius made his way across the street and circled back to watch him from the concealment of a thick hedge across the street. At one point Harry seemed to notice him and he decided now was the time to reveal himself. He was about to step forward when the night bus screeched to a stop between Harry and himself. Sirius watched in disbelief as his godson boarded the bus and disappeared from his view. Realizing there was now little else he could do, but return to Hogsmeade and try to contact Harry at school; a dejected Sirius turned and started the long journey back north.


End file.
